I've actually had this one written for a while, so I shall post it now to satisfy you whilst you await the next chapter of 'From Boys to Men' :P Enjoy!
Deal
So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We'll get there
For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain't heavy, he's my brother
He Ain't Heavy, He's my Brother- The Hollies
xxxXxxx
"Sweetheart?"
Fred lifted his head from where it had rested on his forearms. A red mark fading from his forehead as he looked up blearily at his mother.
"Mum…you made it."
"Of course, dear. Did you think we wouldn't? You look dreadful!" She tutted, running her hand through her son's hair as Arthur entered the small, semi-private room.
Her words were true; Fred looked for all the world like he had just been forced to face his boggart with no defences and hadn't slept in a week. His eyes, dark and sunken, were framed with purple rings and contrasted violently with his pale skin and freckles.
His father walked around to Fred's side and put a hand on his shoulder "How is he?"
Fred shrugged, blinking his sight into focus as he lifted his arms from the edge of the hospital bed.
"They said he'll be fine. Just a bad shock, but they don't know how long he'll be out of it…" he sniffed slightly and let his eyes rest on the unconscious face of George.
"What happened, Fred?" Molly whispered, lowering her voice unnecessarily.
Fred looked down at the sterilely, white floor and avoided eye contact. It was his fault, he knew it was…but he couldn't tell his parents that.
xxxXxxx
"Hey, pass me that box would you?"
Fred grunted from his position on the stairs and idly flicked his wand, levitating the box in question up to George on the ladder.
"Glad to see you're keen to restock, mate." George rolled his eyes, presently restocking a shelf of Puking Pastilles. "You've been in a grouchy mood all day. I mean I know you just broke up but still…"
"Shut it." Fred snapped, making no attempt to get up and help.
"Don't need to take it out on me." His twin rolled his eyes defensively "I thought you were glad for it."
Fred said nothing and for several minutes both twins continued what they were doing in a tense silence. Before George turned carefully so he was facing backwards on the ladder and sighed.
"Alright. Fess up, Fred. Stop grouching and tell me what's going on."
"Nothing. I'm fine!" Fred grunted defensively and finally pulled himself to his feet, retrieving another box and passing the items up to George who sighed.
"Come on, it's about Angelina, isn't it? I thought you were glad she left-"
"SHUT UP, GEORGE!" Fred bellowed, completely losing it at his brother and hurling a bottle of love potion with all the force he could muster at George.
He hadn't intended for it to actually hit him. But hit it did. Hard. George made to duck, completely shocked that Fred would actually throw something with that much force. Ducking did him worse and the bottle caught him in the side of the head.
"Bloody hell!" He tried to stagger backwards, forgetting his was on a ladder. In the space of two seconds his foot caught beneath a rung, sending him toppling from the support with a shout. Fred swore loudly, half paralysed with shock.
"George?" He muttered as his twin hit the ground, unmoving. "You okay?"
George was fine, he was sure, any second he would clamber to his feet and start shouting at Fred. But he would be fine…
"George?" Fred wasn't moving…why wasn't he moving? And neither was George, why wasn't George moving?
"Oh God...I've killed him!" Hysterically worried now, Fred's heart sank right down to his feet and he found movement. Vaulting over the banister of the stairs, he stumbled spectacularly and dropped to his brother's side, waving his hand in front of George's face and gently tapping his cheeks.
"Georgie? Please breathe…please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
George was breathing, but barely. His head has clearly caught the banister on the way now and was bleeding quite profusely.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God…George!"
xxxXxxx
Fred gave a sort of half shrug half wince "Fell off a ladder…hit his head pretty bad. There was blood everywhere."
"Head wounds bleed a lot, dear. It doesn't mean they're serious." Molly half smiled and drew up a chair on the other side, beside George's head, stroking his hair. "My poor baby…"
Arthur smiled at Fred "Go for a walk, you look half dead. It's alright, George isn't going anywhere."
Fred shook his head firmly "I'm not leaving him, Dad."
He hadn't moved in the last…he'd lost count, four hours? Five? And he wasn't about to now. What if George woke up and he wasn't there? He wouldn't forgive himself for that.
"Fred. Go on…it's alright we'll be with him."
Reluctantly Fred pulled himself to his feet and fell right back into the chair, his joints stiff from lack of movement "I'll get a drink…"
xxxXxxx
The halls were horribly and blindingly white as Fred stepped out into them, all comprehension of time lost completely. He didn't have any intention of getting coffee at all, he would much rather have stayed by George's bed.
Words could not describe how guilty Fred felt. He had put his own TWIN in St Mungos…and why? Because he'd tried to get Fred to talk to him, how pathetic an excuse was that?
Yeah Fred didn't really want to talk about Angelina at the time…or any other time but really? To throw a bottle at George because of that? It all seemed so stupid now. He could really, really have hurt his brother.
xxxXxxx
"He's going to be perfectly fine, I assure you. There is no serious damage."
"Then why isn't he awake?" Fred vaguely noticed that his voice had become at least an octave higher in panic.
The healer, who looked rather like a fifty year old trying to be twenty, sighed, tapping her foot impatiently "Like I explained to you…your brother's body is simply in shock. It has shut itself down to heal completely."
"When will he wake up then!"
"I'm afraid I don't know young man you shall just have to wait and see."
She pursed her hideously purple lips and, clutching a clipboard to her chest, strode briskly past him. Leaving him beside the bed on which lay his unconscious twin, a poultice in place over his injured head.
The uninjured twin's heart was thundering painfully in his chest. Still almost completely convinced that he'd killed George, though the proof that he had not in fact done so was right before him.
"George...I'm sorry…please wake up, damn it so I can apologise properly!" He tried to remain calm but it was hard to in these circumstances. His twin was hurt…and worse, he was responsible for it.
xxxXxxx
Dwelling on these thoughts didn't help in the slightest. Fred yawned, dropping down onto a chair conveniently placed beside the wall a few metres away. He buried his head in his hands and almost immediately began to doze. He shook himself awake; he wouldn't sleep, not yet. The back of his ginger head made contact with the cold wall and he sighed, looking directly up at the equally white ceiling. He vaguely registered someone taking the seat beside him but didn't bother to acknowledge their presence.
He sat in this manner for several minutes before his 'companion' addressed him.
"If you intend to count the ceiling tiles, I regret to inform you that you will be here a very long time."
Slowly Fred lowered his face, wincing as his neck cracked painfully. He turned to appraise the speaker and blinked for apparently they had said all they wanted to say. No one sat beside him. Either he was losing it or they'd said all they wanted to say and had up and went off…there was a slight possibility they were invisible but Fred was not particularly willing to stake his life on it.
"God…maybe I should sleep…" He muttered to himself and promptly mentally slapped himself. No. Bad Fred.
Contrary to what his parent's had expected but not at all unlike what he had expected, taking a 'walk' felt much more stifling than sitting beside George's bed had. He had made up his mind now to go back there and endure his mother's fussing.
xxxXxxx
The curtains separating George from the other patient in the room were drawn as Fred quietly slipped back into the room, the door opening as smoothly as anything to admit him entrance.
"He's still asleep, honey. I'm sure he'll wake up soon." His mother smiled softly from her chair. Both hands wrapped around one of George's.
Fred half smiled, his heart beginning its rapid tap dance against his ribs once again. It couldn't be long could it? George would have to wake up soon.
He sank back into the seat his father had just vacated and gently touched his brother's shoulder, as though he thought that would wake him.
"We should go, Molly." Arthur looked pointedly at his wife and flicked her eyes toward Fred.
"Let the boy be."
She nodded softly and stroked George's pale hand gently before reaching over and running a hand through Fred's hair.
"We're going to go now, dear. George will wake up soon, don't worry."
He nodded tiredly, barely registering the gesture and the soft clicking of the door as his parents left the room.
Drifting somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness Fred let his head drop forward onto his arms again, pulling his chair closer to the bed. Finally he allowed himself to drift into the realm of sleep.
xxxXxxx
The figure stirred slightly, his lips parting to allow a slight groan to make itself known. His head hurt and reluctantly he rolled his head to the side. There was a pillow, a comfortable one to boot and slowly he cracked his eyes open. Was he in the hospital? All he saw was a curtain, on which the silhouette of another figure on a bed behind it was visible.
He remembered it now, remembered the look on Fred's face. The bottle hitting him hard, he remembered falling and his foot catching the ladder. That was about all before his memory went black.
Slowly he turned his head on the pillow and blinked, his vision clearing slightly. He smirked softly at the sight that greeted him.
Fred was rooted firmly in the chair at his bedside, his arms folded on the hospital bed and right cheek pressed firmly on his arms. His eyes were closed and he was snoring very lightly, the paleness of his skin and the dark rings around his eyes making it evident this was the first sleep he'd gotten in a while.
"Hey." He reached out and nudged Fred's face with his hand.
The sleeping brother grunted and blinked, lifting his head. "I wasn't asleep…oh…"
He blinked himself awake immediately and straightened.
"George…oh God. You're alright!"
George winced slightly and lifted a hand to his head, feeling the poultice.
"Yeah…I'm obviously perfectly fine. What the HELL was that, Fred?"
"I'm so, so, so sorry! I thought I'd killed you for a bit! God, I'm so stupid. Are you alright-"
George was sure Fred would have continued rambling had George not silenced him.
"Shush, I've got a splitting headache. But I'm fine, really, mate."
"Why aren't you mad at me?" Fred blinked. "Dude…seriously, you should be pissed off."
"Well, I am a little bit, yeah!" He sighed, lifting himself up a little to rearrange the pillows behind his back to lean on. "But it's good of you to wait."
"You're kidding, right?" The older twin smiled slightly "Did you think I wouldn't? I was bloody hysterical after I threw that bottle. I think I frightened a few nurses bringing you in and shouting at the top of my lungs."
George laughed at that "Anything wrong with me?"
"Just a shock apparently. God I was starting to think you wouldn't wake up though…and to know I put you in here…"
"Fred…are you crying?"
He wiped his eyes hastily with his sleeve "No…"
"Watcha crying for?" George smirked, half touched and half bemused at his brother's display.
Fred didn't answer at first, trying desperately to make it look as though he had not, in fact, been crying. Failing that he averted his brother's identical eyes.
"I thought I was losing you, George…I don't wanna lose you…" he muttered quietly.
"Oh, shut it! Don't go getting all soppy on me. I'm not going anywhere." George smiled softly, giving his twin a light shove. "I can forgive you for throwing a bottle at my head…eventually."
Fred laughed, his voice wavering a little. "Thanks…"
"I'll forgive you on one condition. Tell me why you were so pissed off! Like I said, I thought you were glad she broke up with you?"
Fred sighed and narrowed his eyes "Don't really wanna talk about it right now…" He muttered, looking away.
"Mate, you don't really think that you can keep it from me for long?" George smirked. "What's going on?"
"It's just-I'll tell you later…" His brother replied, cutting himself off and gesturing to the curtain separating the patients. "Think we woke him up."
George winced, holding a hand to his head as it gave a particularly painful throb. Something Fred did not fail to notice. His heart resuming its rapid dance as panic rose.
"Are you alright? God, I'm so sorry!"
"Yeah? Well you should be...this actually does really hurt." George muttered, opening his eyes that he hadn't even realised he'd closed.
He couldn't help but smile at the panicked look on his twin's face.
"God, you really were worried weren't you?"
"I put you in hospital, George! Damn straight I was worried. Promise me that I'll never have to be so scared again."
George grinned and squeezed his brother's shoulder affectionately "Sure. So long as you never knock me off a ladder again. Deal?"
Fred smiled slightly back "Deal."